Fallen from Mirkwood
by theaganme
Summary: King Thranduil is suddenly in the modern world at the end of 2013. Will he ever return to Mirkwood?


**Writer's Note: **Originally, I was going to turn this into a OneShot...but I feel like it's going to be a mini series I will be working on until I finish She-Maiar of Middle Earth. I hope you guys enjoy this reading session as I had had fun writing it.

* * *

Roughly two bottles of Cîroc later, Gemma was wandering aimlessly through her house and dancing to House Music. She wore her silk robe from that was given to her by walking down the catwalk for Prada. The lingerie underneath that clung to her body was from her fitting from Victoria's Secret earlier in the previous week. A pair of seven inch heels were placed on her small feet as she staggered, her hands outstretched to hold onto the counter. She laughed, her body swaying drunk.

"Pfft~ Christmas is for chumps." Her grey eyes were dull as she took another sip of her glass. The bitter liquid easily slid down her throat as she rocked to the beat. Gemma didn't stumble in her heels once. She practically slept in them from this life in the fast lane of a model. In fact, she became so consumed in the fame, she ended up ignoring to spend time with her family during the holidays starting when she turned sixteen. And now that she is twenty one, all she could think of is the Ritz and glam of this industry. She didn't bother to call her mom or her dad. Many times, she tried calling her younger sister, but she didn't pick up. No one else called or text her to wish her an early Happy Christmas on the eve. She picked up her phone to scroll through the texts from the day before. The last person on her call log was her manager.  
Gemma threw her phone across the room, skidding along the black tile floor. She reached for the bottle this time and strutted towards the TV. Even though the music was blaring, she wanted to watch the news on mute or at least see Christmas lights. The remote was large in her hands as she flipped on the TV. She took a swig from the bottle when all of a sudden… the power went out leaving her in darkness. It flickered back on and the TV flashed blue. She stared at the light coming from the TV when suddenly a body flew flying through it.

"Whhaa—!?" She screamed as the person who fell on top of her, his face was wedged between her thighs. Gemma kicked him off, still screaming, thinking she may have stabbed him with her stilettos as he groaned from pain. She pushed off, backing into the couch as her eyes grew wide and wild.

"What the hell?! What? You just! Oh my god!" She screamed as she fell backwards onto the tile floor, landing with a thud. Together, she and the other person groaned in pain as she rolled onto her side, crawling to the open kitchen. "I am not drunk enough for this shit." She mumbled as she pulled herself up and reached for a knife. Gemma didn't know if that actually happened or if someone broke into her home, but she was going to defend herself. As she quickly took hold of the knife, she spun around to see the prettiest blue eyes she had ever laid eyes on.

The man standing before her stared at her cautiously "Put the dagger down." He commanded.

Gemma blinked as she pressed it closer towards him, which he backed up just as much as she had come forward. "Who are you?! And why did you fall out of my TV?! Did you come through the back door?! And this isn't a dagger! It's a knife!"

His brow rose curiously as he looked down, seeing that her body was indecent. A blush flooded his face as he looked back into her eyes.

"Pervert!" She tried swinging the knife at him, but his large hand caught her wrist. He squeezed around her tightly, causing her to drop the knife as she whimpered in drunken pain.

"My name is Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm, and I do not know what this 'TV' is." He said seriously, menacingly, his eyes burning into hers. "Why is your clothing impolite and rather rude looking?"

"Yeah, I'm Gemma Edevane. Please let go of me first." She said quietly as she sniffled. "You're hurting me."

"Answer the question first."

Gemma rolled her eyes as she reached to cover herself up in her silk robe, which made him relax slightly. "Better?"

"And what is that on your feet? I have never met a woman from any race of Middle Earth that reaches my height."

She gawked at him, her eyes squinting. "Middle Earth?"

He sighed in short patience. "Yes, I am King of the Woodland Realm. Answer the question."

"These are heels." She kicked her feet out, displaying her suede black heels. "They're made for women or men, if they like wearing them, to make your physique taller and legs look miles long." She tugged at her wrist to pull away from his grasp. Thranduil let go of her wrist easily as he stared down at the knife on the floor.

"You were to strike me."

Gemma rubbed her wrist as she glared at him. "If you didn't move so quickly…I still don't know why you jumped out of my TV."

"I have come to the same conclusion as you have." He stood tall as he reached down to take the knife. Gemma froze as he looked at her curiously. "I have never met one who would so easily try to fight me."

"That must be a real shocker for you." She sighed. "I am so not drunk for this."

Thranduil stared at her as he placed the knife on the granite counter. "Actually, it is quite a surprise. A mortal woman or anyone in particular has not dared to strike an elf without asking for death."

Gemma blinked as she turned to walk away.

"Where are you going?" He turned around to see her robe billowing behind her. She reached for the Cîroc bottle as she shook it with a fake smile on her lips.

"I'm hoping this is all a bad dream and then when I wake up from my drunk stupor, you will disappear and then I can continue on with another bottle the next morning." She sauntered casually across the room as she took a swig. "This will all go away. It will go away." She continues to repeat herself as she opened the fridge. Thranduil saw nothing but bottles and bottles of a wide variety of liquor. Curiously, he followed after her. Gemma walked past him, closing the door as he reopened the fridge. He placed his hand inside. As soon as the chill from the fridge wafted over his skin, he pulled away and shut the door. Then he reopened it again to feel the coolness. He opened and closed the refrigerator a few times until he grew bored. He went around finding Gemma lounging around the back porch. The glass door was open, letting the warm winter air glide around into the house. He peeked his head outside of the door as Gemma was sitting on the black swing set on the deck. The large bottle was in her hands as she was lying down, swinging herself gently.

"I wish to return to my kingdom." He stood tall in the doorway.

"You'll return after I wake up." She waved him off lazily.

"How is it that you know?"

"I don't know." She sighed tiredly. "You talk so properly…and you have an accent. Are you British?"

He blinked, never hearing such a term. "No, I am Elvish."

"That sounds cool." Gemma said dreamily. "I wish I was Elvish." She sat up slightly to take another sip. "You're so pretty."

Thranduil blinked again in confusion as he studied her face and then her hair. She had wheat blonde hair as her eyes were grey. Her nose was small as her lips were rather large as were her eyes. Her face was heart shaped as her body was long and slender.

"You know what would be even cooler?" She asked dreamily.

He looked at her. "What is it?"

"If my Christmas was okay."

"Christmas? What is this Christmas?" He tilted his head in mystification.

Gemma yawned as she took another sip. "December 25th is the day where families spend time with each other and give each other gifts"

"A celebration in the winter? Is it much like Yuletide?"

"Yuly-what?" Gemma squinted up as she fell back onto the swing. "You speak so weird."

Thranduil turned curiously as his arm twisted into the gentle warm breeze. "It is much too warm for Yuletide. During this season, white snow falls over the forest, dusting everything it touches."

Gemma swung her leg over on the side of the leg as she smiled. "That sounds so nice. In California, it only snows in the north."

"I must find a way back. I cannot stay in this 'California' as you call it, any longer. My kingdom is kingless."

"You'll find your way back after I sleep." She said stubbornly.

"Then I shall wait for you to sleep so I may return."

"You and your funny words…" Gemma mumbled as her eyelids closed. The warm breeze played as a soft blanket that gently lulled her to sleep. Thranduil found another chair as he sat, watching the mortal as she slept with the bottle. He waited and waited to see that burst of light as he saw before he saw something lacy between her long legs. Thranduil blinked that image away as he concentrated on her face.

And for the rest of the night, he continued to sit that way, still waiting.

Gemma moaned softly, her eyes tiredly opening as she licked her dry lips. She sat up, feeling the liquor settling in her stomach still as she felt sick. It was too warm for her to sit out as her body was heating up.

"You said I shall return after you had slept. I am still here."

Gemma looked up as her eyes widened in fear. "Oh my god." She whispered. "You're real."

"Of course I am." He snarled. "You promised me and yet I have not returned back to my kingdom."

She sat up, holding her head in her hand as she closed her eyes from the pain. "I thought you were a part of my drunken imagination." Her legs swung over the swing as the robe began to fall off her shoulders. Thranduil stiffened in his seat as he stared at her. Gemma looked back up into his piercing blue eyes as she looked quickly down to see that she was still in her lingerie and silk robe. Her heels had fallen off when she slept. Carefully, she covered herself up as she then returned her attention back to him.

"This is so weird."

"As you have said my voice and diction were as well."

"You do speak differently. But it's kinda nice to hear something that's different." Gemma stood as she went towards the glass sliding door. She found the remote to her surround sound, turning off the House Music that still continued to play. Peace and quiet finally settled over them, both sighing in relief. She turned to face him. "I still don't know who you are and how you came here, but it's not right. I don't understand how you came through my TV. I don't understand how you look so…look so…" She thought of a word to describe him.

"You called me pretty last night." He said dryly.

Gemma frowned, smacking her lips from being dehydrated and in annoyance with herself.  
"When I'm drunk I seem to speak the truth."

She left him on her porch, groaning from the pain of an upcoming headache. Thranduil followed her casually inside, looking into her interior. The knife was still on the counter as he strides to breakfast bar, staring at it.

"Will you strike me again with this?" He pointed at the knife as Gemma looked up tiredly. She stared at the knife hard, as if debating if she really would try to stab him again. But she remembered how strong he was so discarded the idea.

"No. I won't or with any other objects I swear." She threw her hands up in defeat. "But my main priority is to get you out of my house ASAP. You came here uninvited."

"Oh, I assure you, it wasn't my attention." He seethed as he sat down in the iron breakfast stool.

Gemma rolled her eyes as she opened up her fridge as she stared at the liquor before her. She was picking out which one to start out with Christmas, celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ and a much commercialized holiday. Her eyes skimmed each label and none appealed to her. Gemma sighed as she closed the refrigerator door gently as she went to her coffee machine. Thranduil watched her curiously.

"So why are you dressed the way you are? You look like you just came out of a movie." She grinded up coffee beans in her electric grinder as the noise startled him.

"I am King of the Wooden Realm." He said in annoyance for the third time. "I told you this last night."

"I don't really remember last night, so excuse me!" She threw her hands up again as she pressed start on her coffee machine. "I just remember you falling out of my TV, you making me drop the knife from my hands and then I blacked out." She turned on her heel to lean against the granite counter top as she folded her arms over her chest. Their eyes met in fury and annoyance.

"Aren't you tired? You did stay up all night…for nothing." She said gently.

"Elves do not need as much rest and sleep as do men and other creatures of Middle Earth." He said casually. "Though, I believe you should have slept longer."

Gemma looked at the clock to read it was only seven in the morning. "Nah, I get up around this time or even earlier. I'm alright…so…you're an elf huh?" She stared at him curiously.

"You look human…despite your inhumanly bright blue eyes…so what makes you an elf besides your superman strength?"

Thranduil looked over his hands and then felt his face. His hands traveled to his brow line all the way over his side hairline and stopped just on his ears. He pulled his hair back to show her his pointed ear. Gemma's eyes widened in wonder as she slowly made her way, standing next to him as she looked over his ear. Her hand moved to reach and touch his ear but he then struck her hand, pressing her hand hard against the cold granite. Her eyes hardened and turned to meet his.

"Do not touch me unless I allow it, peasant."

She blinked as she laughed at him. "You're so funny!" Her eyes then reverted back to his ears. "So are your ears sensitive or something?" Thranduil pulled his long blonde hair back into place as he closed his eyes, turning his head away from her.

"No, they are not."

Gemma tilted her head as she continued to curiously look over his handsome face. After she lost interest, she turned to return back to the coffee pot that was now finished brewing. She took two mugs from the cabinet and set them down on the counter. Thranduil turned his head slightly as he watched her fill the mugs with black liquid. At first, he hissed, thinking it was an evil from Sauron.

"It's coffee." Gemma said gently as she placed the mug slightly in front of him. "I don't know if they have it in your world, but it's what helps us in the morning and sometimes in the afternoon."

"Your world sounds so dependent on this black liquid." He stared into the coffee cautiously.

"You'd be surprised what else this word is dependent on." Her eyes widened sarcastically as she took a sip. "If you don't like it, I can get something else for you." She offered kindly. The Elven King shook his head as he wrapped his large hand around the more than warm cup as he took a gentle sip. The coffee sat in his mouth for a few moments, the bitterness swelling his mouth as he swallowed in one gulp. He stared at the mug then looked up at Gemma as she waited for his acceptance eagerly. Her large grey eyes were against his pale blue as she held her mug with both of her small hands.

"It is not foul tasting."

Gemma chuckled, taking another sip then setting the mug down. "I'm glad because that's all I have beside the storage of alcohol that you saw earlier…" She shuffled nervously. "Hey, look…" Gemma locked eyes with Thranduil. "I can't just shove you back into my TV so you can return to your world or wherever you came from…this Middle Earth place. If you are king-."

"I am king." He said with authorization.

"King…" Gemma continued. "Then you have a kingdom to tend to and I'm sure you don't want to be in my world because we don't have patriarchy like you do. Well…we have a few in Europe but that's not the point."

"What is this 'Europe' place you speak of?"

"It's a country way east of where we are."

Thranduil's eyebrows rose curiously. "Then where are we now?"

"Los Angeles, City of Angels."

"Is Europe any place like my kingdom?"

Gemma held her hands out for him to slow down. "Look, dude. I don't even know what Mirkwood is, so you'll have to be patient in trying to explain to me what it is and where it is located on your geographical map."

Thranduil sat quietly for a moment, holding his mug as he took another sip of coffee. "Today is Christmas in your world."

"And Yuly-whaty in yours." She replied lazily.

"Yuletide." He corrected. Gemma just shrugged her shoulders.

"You said to me last night, before you fell asleep…" Thranduil turned his head slightly and stared at the shiny, silver faucet. At first, his eyes glistened in want and need for it, and then he snapped out of his trance. "You wished your Christmas would be 'Okay.'"

Gemma finished the remaining remnants in her mug and set it in the sink. She turned on the water for it to soak as Thranduil stared in awe and amazement. "Um…" She blinked then laughed. "I said such a silly thing! Well," Gemma popped her hip out as she thought. "All of the stores are closed today, but they reopen tomorrow…" She went off in thought as she snapped and started walking past Thranduil.

"Where are you going?"

"To fetch you some clothes?"

The Elven King stared as she disappeared down the dark hallway. He jumped out of his chair, seeing that the darkness had swallowed her. Thranduil followed the path she took and then just stopped right before the darkness began. Gemma appeared again as she stopped in front of him. She looked up at him as she had a small bundle in her hands.

"Why do you look so worried?"

He huffed. "I thought darkness had taken you."

Gemma blinked slowly. "Would that have been a bad thing?"

"In my world, yes."

She nodded her head slowly. "Dully noted! I have some clothes for you…I think they'll fit you because these are from previous male model collections and those dudes are tall. So, I'll lead you to the bathroom." She turned on her heel to head back into the darkness as he placed a firm hand on her shoulder, stopping her suddenly.

"The light."

"Oh, right! Sorry!" Gemma's hand turned to turn on a switch as the lights suddenly loomed on top of the ceiling. Thranduil stared at the switch curiously.

"You can play with it later, come on! Bath time!"

Gemma lead him into the guest bathroom that was quite large in size. It had a bathtub that lay out in the open and a glass shower that was large as well. The countertop was black as the tiles on the floor lay a checkered black and white print. She reached for a towel as she turned around to catch him staring at the black crystals that lay in the wall behind the sink. Gemma laughed as she tapped him on the shoulder gently.

"Hey, I'm going to teach you how to control the shower." She said gently. Thranduil turned to look at her, his eyes still in bewilderment as she stood leaning into the shower.

"Okay, first, you push the middle knob in like this." She demonstrated as the water turned on from the nozzle. Her hand went in to feel the temperature of the water as the other went to the knob on the right. "This controls hot water. The other knob on the left is for cold. You can see which temperature suits you better by turning which way on how hot or cool you want it to be. Do you want to try?"

Gemma moved out of the way so Thranduil now stood where she was once before. The water was off now but he went to push in the middle knob. The water turned on. He reached for the right knob and twisted to the right as he placed his hand underneath the water. It felt warm and comfortable to his touch as he turned around, looking at her.

"This temperature will suffice."

"Also, if you get cool, like if the temperature isn't warm enough after you've gotten used to it, you can keep going for hotter. So keep turning it to the right."

They stared at each other for a few moments longer until Gemma coughed awkwardly. "Okay, I'll leave you. You have your towels here and your shampoo and soaps in there…so…okay."

Leaving quickly, Thranduil blinked staring where Gemma once stood as the door clicked shut.

She took leave to her shower. The hot water fell over her skin as she sighed. "The fuck is going on." Gemma groaned as she started brushing her teeth in the shower. "This is so unbelievably fucking weird. I have an elf, a sexy elf if I may add, showering in my guest bathroom right now. What the actual fuck."

The rest of her shower went by slowly as she took her time to clean her hair and soak her body in the richly smelling lavender that bubbled white.

"Jesus Christ, Happy Birthday." She stepped out and wrapped a towel around her body. She turned to the mirror and wiped it with a spare mini towel as she saw her reflection in the mirror. Gemma saw a pale, extra skinny, fake blonde girl with dead grey eyes. There were bags under her eyes as she looked down at her wrists. The way Thranduil grabbed her wrist; she could have sworn he could have snapped her bone in half. She could have died by a dude who had longer hair than her.

She shook off that memory quickly as she trotted to her closet, pulling out a black hoodie and black leggings with thick Christmas socks made of wool. They were designed in black, red, and white zig zags, snowflakes, and lines. Her blonde hair was still damp but she wanted to cover up her dead complexion and bring her eyes to life. Gemma quickly put on foundation, black winged eyeliner, blush, and chapstick. After looking in the mirror at her appearance, she nodded in approval. As she returned downstairs, she picked up her phone that was on the ground near the stairwell, seeing that she didn't have any missed calls or text messages. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she shoved the phone back in her hoodie pocket. She went towards the pantry and saw that she only had saltine crackers.

"Yeah, saltine crackers and vodka for Christmas…Happy Holidays." She slammed the pantry door.

"Is that a traditional Christmas food in this world?"

Gemma jumped up as she spun around, seeing Thranduil dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans, a grey v-neck t-shirt with a grey knit wool sweater that was open. She gawked a little then she snapped out of it, her heart still beating fast.

"No, not really. You scared the shit out of me." She placed a hand on her forehead.

"Okay, so I need to figure out how to feed you, clothe you, figure out how to send you back to your world. Is this really happening?"

"Yes, I believe this is all true." He replied calmly. "These clothes shall suffice. They have a different feeling than what I am used to, but nonetheless, these shall do."

"No, you can't keep wearing the same clothes over and over." Gemma moved in front of him, fixing the collar of the sweater, flipping it back properly. He watched her curiously. "I'll get knew clothes for you tomorrow. But my problem right now is food, meals, anything that you take for nutrition." She tapped her chin as she thought.

"Do you have a garden?" Thranduil asked gently, trying to calm her and make it easier on his host.

Her eyes brightened. "I do! I completely forgot about that…I don't think there's much in there because the last time I was in there, I was planting flowers with my sister."

"How long ago was that?"

"Two years ago." Gemma sighed. "I think we need to go to the grocery store. I wasn't anticipating on hosting any guests, but that's okay. Come on, Thranduil…" She blinked. "That name is kinda long and different sounding…Can I call you Thran for short at least while we are out in public?"

His brow rose. "What is wrong with my name? My name is a source of fear to those who have gone against my kingdom."

She smiled awkwardly. "Nothing, I was just asking for acceptance for shortening of your name."

"You may do so."

"Also…please take a seat." She pointed to the iron breakfast bar stool again. Thranduil looked at her curiously as he did so. Gemma stood behind him.

"I'm going to fix your hair. Is that okay?"

"You may do so." He said slightly bored.

Her fingers wove through his long, soft, flaxen hair. She marveled how he had no broken ends and it was all perfectly layered. The rubber band around her wrist was pulled off as she gripped his hair in her hand, holding it gently. Quickly wrapping his hair into a low pony tail, his hand gently ran over the smooth lock of his hair.

"Why did you pull it back?" He asked with wonder.

"You actually look nice with your hair like that. I mean, before it looked nice and I like this too." She looked over her work as she nodded. "Definitely this is a look for you." She paused, looking at his ears. They were pointed and she liked them, but she didn't want to shock anyone or draw attention to him. She walked over to her dining table and dug through an H&M bag and pulled out wool woven, grey beanie. Gemma pulled it over the top of his head gently, tucking his ears in carefully. She looked over him and nodded. "Now let's go to the grocery store because it is Christmas after all. It might be busy, so let's get first dibs on vegetables."

Gemma led him out to her garage as he stared at the car that was sitting there. She slipped into her black ballet flats as she told him to slip into those leather brown slip ons. He was hesitant at first, but when Thranduil saw Gemma sit inside it so casually, he followed suit. She waited for him patiently as she reached for her seat belt.

"This is really important you wear this." She clicked the belt into the buckle. Thranduil reached for the belt and followed her way of how she put it in the buckle. It clicked. "Good job! Now, I'm going to back out and this may be a bit fast for you, so let me know if you feel sick."

The car slowly pulled out of the garage and out onto the neighborhood street. She turned to look at him as he looked out the window, watching as each house passed by quickly. A smile formed on her lips as she focused on driving. He looked really adorable sitting in her car looking out like he's never seen outside before. Thranduil suddenly turned to her, baby blue eyes still wide.

"This is an amazing creature."

Gemma finally lost it. She laughed so hard she had to pull over. He looked mildly offended as she waved her hand, trying to gasp for air. "No, no! I'm not laughing at you! You're just…you're just so…so cute I can't handle it." She chuckled some more.

"How am I, Elven King, cute?"

When she finally regained herself, she hit the dashboard. "This is not a creature, this is called a car. It gets you from one destination to another…like a horse but this is faster."

She started driving again on the empty road and pulled out onto the main road. There weren't as many people on the streets, probably still celebrating by opening up gifts and drinking egg nog. This made her stomach sink into her body as she bit her lower lip. Gemma sped up to the light, stopping on red. Instinctively, her hand came out to hold Thranduil back in his seat, guarding him with her arm. She turned to look at Thranduil again.

"Are you okay?" She asked as she wedged her hands in between her thighs. He turned to look at her, nodding.

"It is quite sunny for the winter time. It is amazing how this world works."

"Oh, believe me," she laughed once. "It's not sunny everywhere."

He thought on her lingering thought as she pushed down on the gas to go again. Then suddenly, she turned right into the parking lot of Whole Foods. She slipped out of her side as he did the same. Thranduil looked up at the tall building with green lettering as Gemma walked over to him. She smiled. "Shall we?"

Inside, his eyes went wide as he saw all different kinds of fruits and vegetables in the open refrigerator. There were nut dispensers leaning against the other side of the aisle. He went to pick up a hedge of lettuce but then the water mist went on and startled him. Thranduil cursed in Sindarin as Gemma looked up at him.

"What did you just say?" She asked curiously.

He placed the lettuce in an open bag that she held out open. "A few curses in my language."

"And what is your language? It sounded beautiful even though you were swearing."

"It is Sindarin. Sindarin is the most common Elven language among Middle Earth." Thranduil looked down at her. "And its written form is called Tengwar."

"Wow! That sounds so beautiful." She said dreamily as she picked up a bundle of long carrots.

"'Quel amrun." He said gently. Gemma turned to look up at him.

"'Quel amrun." She repeated slowly as he nodded in approval. "What does that mean?"

"Good morning."

Gemma's pale grey eyes brightened. "Good night?"

"Quel du." He said quietly.

"Quel doo." She emphasized the du a little too long.

"Du." Thranduil repeated. "Do not linger on the vowel sound in the word."

"Quel du." Gemma nodded while grabbing a set of radishes, looking at him.

"You have many vegetables that are grown in very odd times. I like those." He gestured to the radishes.

She reached for a carton of mushrooms after setting the radishes in the cart that was beginning to fill up with vegetables. "In this time and day, it's easier to grow vegetation. But it's not bad or anything. Are these enough?"

As the cart was filled with lettuce, spinach, carrots, radishes, mushrooms, tomatoes, apples, pomegranates, celery sticks, bell peppers, peaches, and onions, Gemma wanted to go through the dry foods in the warmer aisles; Thranduil looked over their cart casually as he nodded in approval.

"These shall suffice."

Gemma pushed the cart, turning into boxed foods and dry grains. She made a mental note to visit the cheeses and bakery section on their way out. After picking up a few bags of pasta, rice grains, cans of kidney beans, a boxed cake mix that was flavored chocolate, and a canister of green tea, Thranduil followed closely behind Gemma. He picked up a plastic bag of ramen, examining it gently. He read out loud that it was chicken flavored.

"You can get some if you want." Gemma offered gently. "I bet you guys don't have noodles in your world."

"Noodles?"

"Well, that's Ramen. That's a food from Asian countries, more from Japan or Korea. There's many other types of noodles from Asia, but I couldn't cover them all just by telling you."

Thranduil then placed the packet of ramen in the cart, setting it on top of the vegetables gently. "May I try some when we return to your rather large home?"

"Sure, grab three more packets. I'm going to be down a ways looking at wines and cheeses."

As he watched her walk away with the strange iron basket, he returned his attention back to the many flavorings of ramen. He read out loud that there was beef, shrimp, mushroom, creamy chicken, even roast chicken! There were other flavors that sounded foreign but he decided to get two more regular chicken packets and one creamy chicken just to see where the cream was in the packet since all he felt was the hardness of the noodles. Thranduil walked down the large aisle in the back, looking at the beginning of the wine racks. He saw Gemma a few feet away, holding two bottles and comparing both. He trudged up to her, getting a few looks from women that were lingering just to stare at the Elven King's grace as he ignored them.

"Where is the cream when it says 'creamy chicken', Gemma?" Thranduil tilted his head gently. She looked up at him, still thinking about which wine to get as she saw the packets in his hand as she chuckled.

"There's a powder in there for flavoring. The broth in the regular chicken is clearer than the creamy chicken. All it means that creamy chicken is richer tasting."

His attention averted to the bottles in her hands, looking at the foreign labels as he shook his head. Dumping the ramen packets into the cart, he reached to take both bottles from her hands to set them back on the slots where they once were and looked over bottles that sat more on top. His sharp eyes scanned and stopped at 2011 Robert Mondavi Cabernet Sauvignon. He pulled two bottles from the shelf as he held them out for her to read.

"I've had this before…it's pretty good." She said softly, taking the bottles from him to place into the cart. Together, they carried on through out the grocery store, picking up two loaves of bread and smelling cheeses. When she called for his nickname, he looked up to see that she was actually smiling. She didn't look miserable or drunk or even sad like how he had seen her since the first moment they met. A few women were muttering in the check out, whispering about how handsome he was. Thranduil grinned as he leaned down to talk to Gemma softly which made her blush. All he said was that he couldn't wait to eat the ramen.

They quickly checked out, loading the paper bags into the car and drove back to Gemma's home. Thranduil stayed quiet since he had asked about the ramen. He was curious as to what it looked like after it had been cooked and especially what it tasted like since it was "creamy."

Gemma looked over at him as she pulled into her neighborhood.

"You know, I saw a lot of women checking you out back there."

His brow furrowed. "Checking me out?" He repeated in confusion.

"Like…looked over you because you're so stunning, I mean, you are fairly handsome and easy on the eyes."

He thought about her vocabulary for a moment longer before his eyes returned to look out the window. Gemma inwardly sighed as she pulled into the garage and turned off the car. They worked in silence, putting the groceries away, pulling bottles of liqueur out to put in the vegetables, fruits, and cheeses. She stared off as she placed the bottle of wine on her refrigerator door, finishing up the remaining clean up.

"Could you teach me more Sindarin?" Gemma asked as she pulled out a pot to fill it with water. Thranduil leaned to sit back into the breakfast bar and stool.

"Manka lle merna."

She turned on the stove, allowing and waiting the water to boil. Gemma glanced up at him as she took the ramen away from him. He nearly pouted.

"Manka lle merna." She repeated clearly.

"If you wish."

Her wide grey eyes sparkled as she clapped her hands together excitedly.

"Mae govannen." He watched her as she stood just in front of the stove, placing the lid to the pot to help quicken the water boil. Gemma repeated the phrase as he explained that it meant "welcome" or "well met". In the mean time, Thranduil had taught Gemma simple phrases and numbers one through ten while she began to boil the noodles and moving it around with large chopsticks. He watched her in a slight trance, overlooking the white bubbles that began to boil to the surface. As the noodles seemed tender enough, she added the packet of season and stirred to then serve in one of her large bowls and a single fork. Gemma thought he didn't maybe know how to eat with chopsticks but she gave him a choice of it anyway. Thranduil chose fork.

"I don't really eat stuff like that." Gemma sighed as she turned to put the now cool pot into the sink. Thranduil looked up as he watched her carefully as she spoke. "I've been one hundred and fifteen pounds at five feet nine or fifty two kilograms and one hundred and seventy six centimeters for a very long time and I don't intend to have my waistline get any bigger."

He listened to her as he started to taste and eat the chicken broth noodles. Thranduil stopped eating as he looked up at her.

"Do you like things like this?" He pointed at his bowl.

"Nah." Gemma lied casually. "I try to eat just plain vegetables if I can."

He pushed his bowl towards her, offering his fork. She declined kindly, but he stared into her eyes. Gemma gave into intimidation as she sighed, taking his fork. She mumbled something about getting fat if she ate more than what she was planning. After taking a quick bite, she slowly chewed, letting the ramen linger on her tongue as she nodded.

"Mmhm!" She nodded again as she swallowed, trying to not enjoy it so much. Gemma was trying to remember the last time she actually enjoyed food. "Yeah, definitely not."

"Then what do you like?"

Gemma turned to the fridge, pulling and popping open a bottle of clear liquid.

"Vodka. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner." She poured a glass and asked if he wanted any. He declined quickly as she shrugged, taking a swig from the bottle itself."

"Why do you drink if there is nothing to celebrate?" Thranduil tilted and itched his head through the beanie.

"I have plenty to celebrate." She nodded. "It's Christmas!" Gemma turned to leave the kitchen as she flopped into her couch. She took another lazy swig as he followed her, holding the bowl and fork. Thranduil took a seat on the loveseat beside the couch as he stared at her. She waved him off as she kept taking drinks.

"Don't look at me like that." Gemma sighed as she threw her phone onto the coffee table. Thranduil looked at the device, leaning to pick it up as she didn't care if he did or didn't.

"What is this?" He held the phone between his thumb and middle finger. Thranduil began to play with the screen, dragging his fingers around and pressing random icons. He found the icon that held her pictures and went through each. There were pictures of Gemma in heavy make up but she seemed happy or so he thought. There were other pictures of people kissing her on the cheek as he thought she lived a very openly intimate life. In the very older pictures, there was a girl that looked just like her and figured the girl was her sister. He flipped the phone as he looked over at Gemma again.

"Is this girl your sister?"

Gemma turned the bottle against her lips as her eyes left the phone after looking at the screen. "That's Emily." She said softly as she bit her lower lip as she looked down. "Emily is my younger sister."

He flipped through more pictures with Emily and Thranduil noticed that she was truly happy with her family rather than the pictures with the people who kissed her cheek and were half naked in robes. He didn't press the topic with Emily, but it made him think of Legolas.

"I have a son." Thranduil said softly.

Gemma turned to face him with owl wide eyes as she gulped hard. "No shit?"

He nodded. "He was born many years ago, but he is still young…for an elf." Thranduil nodded. "Soon, he is to take over Mirkwood and I wish to retire to the Undying Lands."

Gemma moved to sit up, crossing her legs as she became entranced in his story, leaning towards him. "What are the Undying Lands? What does Legolas look like? Are you married? Wait…How old are you?"

Thranduil laughed as he looked over her confused face. "The Undying Lands are another realm filled with Elves and the Ainur." He started. "It is when we are ready to part with Middle Earth after we have grown old. It is tradition. But there are a few exceptions of other races in Middle Earth to reach voyage across the western shores. And as for Legolas…He is strong, tall, and worthy to take over my reign." He looked over Gemma as she watched him with fascination. "My earlier wife had passed during childbirth. It is a hard stage for any Elven female to endure." Thranduil's voice stayed distant. "And as for my age…I am older than you can ever imagine, Gemma."

She blinked. Suddenly she came over to sit beside him, her fingers knotted together nervously. "My sister Emily…she died too. I was nineteen when we were driving through New York because she came to see me while I was at a photo shoot. She was sixteen. It's where you take multiple pictures of people like me with make up and wigs and really extravagant clothing." She said quickly as she emphasized with her hands. "She came during the photo shoot and she was even allowed to join because the photographer was really nice." Gemma smiled. "I have those large pictures in my room…but I haven't had the courage to see them since she died." She scratched her leg. "I was the one driving and some guy just came speeding in another car like the one I have. We were going straight and then his car hit her side." Her hands explained the T crash as he watched her seriously. "She died on impact and the guy only went to jail for two years…"

"That is not fair." He frowned. "In Mirkwood, our prisoners rot in our dungeons."

Gemma smiled. "I wish this time was a lot like Mirkwood, even though I'd probably be wearing floor length dresses and riding horses."

"You would be." Thranduil nodded in agreement. "Or bearing children."

Gemma grimaced, and then laughed. She laughed so hard that tears formed in her eyes. The thought of her having children wasn't so funny, but she wanted to cover up her feelings of talking about her sister in which she hasn't in two years, going on three. The thought of Thranduil's wife never holding her baby after she gave life to her son hung over her. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, still smiling.

"Is that why you are not with family?" Thranduil lowered his head slightly.

"It's hard." She looked up into his bright blue eyes. "I can't face them. I couldn't. It's childish…and here I am confessing myself to an Elven King who flew out of my TV and landed in my crotch." She laughed into her hand.

Suddenly, Thranduil stood. He left her living room, leaving a very confused and sniffling Gemma.

"Yeah." She nodded, sighing. "This is why I don't have close friends. When I try to even dig deep with a person, I turn sloppy and UGGHHH!" Gemma took the bottle in her grasp again and began drinking heavily. "Now he thinks I'm a freakshow."

"What is a 'freakshow'?" Thranduil asked curiously as he held something large and rectangular. Gemma jumped up as she spilled the vodka slightly in her lap as she cursed. "Freakshow means that someone or a group of people are strange."

He nodded understanding or trying to understand the slang she was using. Thranduil then walked over to her bare fireplace. Gemma watched him as he placed the picture of Emily and her along the mantle. Gemma was lying on her stomach, laughing as Emily's elbows were on Gemma's back. Her head was thrown back that looked like she was roaring in laughter as Gemma was looking down, her hands covering her lips that were in a grin.

She stared at the picture as loose tears spilt from her eyes as she sniffled. Gemma stood from the couch and to now stand beside him as they gazed over the picture. Thranduil looked down at her.

"Merry Christmas Gemma, sister of Emily."

Gemma closed her eyes, her breathing was held in as she cried into her sleeve. Her arm outstretched to hug the Elven King from the side for a brief moment before letting go to recollect her thoughts and emotion.

"Happy Yuletide Thranduil, King of Mirkwood."

* * *

Quel amrun: Good morning

Quel du: good night.

Manka lle merna: if you wish


End file.
